Revenge
by Imitating Licentiousness
Summary: Sequel to Doctor's Orders. If there's once common law in all the world, it's that bastards have brothers. So what happens when Fitch's brothers hunt Jack down, seeking revenge?
1. Default Chapter

It was a warm night in Port Royal. Not too hot, just warm, moist. The same tropical climate as usual. It was Nicholas's night off, and he was spending it going off on a romantic even with one of the barmaids he had set a fancy to, Isabella. Andra, meanwhile, had the task of staying awake and making sure that there were no emergencies that night that needed medical attention. So far, no one had come in, so Andra was left alone in thoughts, absentmindedly straightening the infirmary she and Nicholas held their practice in.

_Six months_, she mused, putting the bottles of random medicines and powders in alphabetical order. Six months since she had last seen Jack, striding away from her down the cobblestone path, back to his pirate ship. He had told her he would return, but when, exactly?

So much had happened. Andra and Nicholas had an apprentice now, Thomas, the same little boy Andra had nursed back to health through the yellow fever epidemic several months before. Will had become knighted recently, and he and Elizabeth had been able to move into a much larger, more distinguished home, and were beginning to enjoy the luxuries such a title was given to. However, Will still ran his smithy, selling swords and other weaponry to the finest merchants. And dear Elizabeth was now three months pregnant. Jack had been right-it hadn't taken long at all.

Andra had a secret smile as she remembered him. Tanned skin, handsome face with darkened eyes the color of Spanish chocolate, unruly black hair, hands that were work-worn and strong but sure and gentle. He had smelled of fresh clean breeze flowing in off the ocean. And Andra remembered most the softness of his lips from where he had kissed her hand.

A sudden sound startled her, the sound of someone scraping across the boards of the front parlor. Andra quickly turned down the oil lamp that sat on the desk, then pulled open the top drawer of the desk. Rummaging around inside, she found her tiny derringer, then looked around hurriedly, trying to find a place to hide. Nicholas wasn't due back until morning, and by that time, she could already be very, very dead.

The derringer was already loaded, so ever so softly, Andra cocked it, waiting. The footsteps came nearer, continual scraping across the floor, as though someone were dragging their leg. It continued across the floor, Andra growing more and more panicked until finally, the knob on the door to the infirmary twisted, then the door began to creak open. Andra felt like slapping herself in the head-why hadn't she just locked the bloody thing?

The door swung open. A figure stood in the shadows left in the moonlight, leaning against the door, but Andra could only see their silhouette.

"Identify yourself. I have a pistol aimed," Andra demanded shakily.

The stranger raised a hand in a surrendering gesture.

"Told you I'd come back, love," a familiar voice said.

Andra gasped. "Oh, God."

She would know that voice anywhere.

It was Jack.


	2. Surveying the Damage

Disclaimer: Forgot to add that on chapter one. I own nothing of POTC, its characters, and all that good stuff.

Author's Warning: Don't read this chapter if you get queasy around blood.

* * *

Andra grabbed the knob on the oil lamp, turning it, filling the room with light once more, illuminating Jack. He was still leaning against the door, and now, in the light, Andra now could see why.

Blood.

Blood was dripping off of Jack, making a dark red puddle on the hardwood floor.

"What happened to you?" Andra asked, her voice catching.

Jack tried to stand up straight, take a step forward, but began to collapse. Andra rushed forward to help him.

"Here, lean on me. Let's get you to a bed."

Jack leaned heavily on her as Andra guided him to the nearest bed, helping him lie down. Blood immediately began to stain the clean white sheets.

"What happened, Jack?" Andra asked again.

"If there's one rule in all the world, it's that bastards have brothers," Jack answered weakly.

"Fitch?" Andra inquired.

"Aye."

"You stay here. I'll be right back."

"Not going anywhere for awhile, love," Jack responded.

Andra raced through the house, through the parlor, up the stairs, down to Thomas's room. She bent down.

"Thomas, wake up!" Andra said urgently, patting him until he awoke.

"Wha-hunh?" the boy asked, sitting up and trying to rub the sleep from his eyes.

"Listen to me very carefully; this is an emergency. I need you to run, as fast as your legs will carry you, to the Turner's estate. Wake up Will, and do not return here unless you have him in tow. Tell him that his friend from the sea is back and needs help. Is this clear?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good. Get up, hurry!"

Andra raced back down the stairs to the infirmary. Thomas followed behind, pulling his shirt on. He took one look at where Jack lay on the bed and hurried out the door to go fetch Will.

Andra went back to Jack's side. He looked at her, eyes unfocused.

"I'm going to put you under, Jack."

"Under what?"

"Sleep," Andra answered. "With ether."

"No, pet, there's still the wretches that did this out there...have to stay awake...protect you..."

Although Andra was flattered, now was not the time. Ignoring Jack's request, she took a bottle of ether out of the cabinet, poured it over a cloth, then held it to Jack's face. In seconds, his eyes closed, and he rested deeply.

Andra began to survey the damage. His left leg appeared to be sprained, but nothing she couldn't heal with time. That could wait. Eyes roaming upwards, she tried to find where he was bleeding. It seemed to be coming from his back, dried blood draining all down his right arm and onto the floor where it hung of the bedside. Andra carefully pushed him over, then grabbed a pair of scissors to cut his shirt off. Slicing it down, she tossed the shredded remains to the floor. There. To her horror, she found a bullet hole in his right shoulder.

Grabbing her forceps, Andra fought the urge to be nauseous as she plunged the forceps into the bullet hole, feeling around until she could feel where the bullet was lodged deep in his shoulder blade. She wanted to be sick right there, but she could be sick later. She grasped a hold of the bullet, then pulled it out. Fresh blood spurted from the wound, almost bringing Andra to tears. Jack had lost an incredible amount of blood; she needed to stop the blood flow and then perform a transfusion as soon as Will got there.

But, for now, she looked over to the desk. She yanked open the top drawer again, searching until she found the keg of gunpowder. Walking back over to Jack, she poured the gunpowder into the bullet hole, then struck up a match. She was glad she'd put Jack under-this was going to hurt. Andra touched the gunpowder with the match. There was a loud pop, and in his sleep, Jack groaned, but the wound was now cauterized.

Andra continued her survey. Jack had a black eye and a split lip, but other than that, his face was fine. She checked his hair, and found a gash on the side of his head. Andra tried digging through his hair to look at the wound, but there was so much, and it was tangled and braided and dreadlocked. She seized her scissors again, and began to snip away. Chunks of his hair fell to the floor, all around his head, until she could see the gash clearly. She took a sterilized needle and thread, and stitched the wound closed.

At this point, the door banged open, and Will came in, followed closely behind by Elizabeth and Thomas.

"What happened?" Will asked.

"I'm not sure," Andra answered. "Fitch's brothers, in revenge, I presume. Sit, Will; I need your blood."

It wasn't long before Andra was giving Jack a blood transfusion. Sometime in the middle of it, the ether began to wear off and Jack's eyes began to flutter. He drifted in and out of consciousness.

"Will...good to see ye," he mumbled.

"Good to see you, too, Jack," Will answered.

After the blood transfusion was complete, Andra took care of the many cuts and scratches she found on Jack. He was asleep once more, and Elizabeth and Will sat down in chairs while Andra prepared a wash basin.

"What do you suppose happened?" Elizabeth asked.

Andra dipped a sponge in the water, then began to cleanse Jack with it. "I don't know. He got here only a little before you two did, and he wasn't very lucid. He said it was Fitch's brothers, but that's all I was able to discern."

She gave Jack a sponge bath, cleansing away the blood and dirt and grime. With Elizabeth's help, they pulled Jack up just enough to wash his hair, rinsing it in the washbasin.

"What should we do now?" Thomas asked.

"Wait until he wakes," Andra answered. "He's going to live. It's going to take awhile of healing. I just..." she trailed off, staring down at her feet. "If he had gotten here any later, lost any more blood, he'd be dead. And whoever did this...if they don't think he's dead, they're going to be looking for him. And I think he must have left a trail of blood all the way up here."


End file.
